


Masks

by ddagent



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Attempted Murder, Batman/Catwoman AU, Dark!Jaime, F/M, Kissing, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Secret Identity, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 18:29:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20140012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddagent/pseuds/ddagent
Summary: At the Mayor's festive masquerade ball, Jaime Lannister is planning to murder Aerys Targaryen. But then *she* shows up. A Batman/Catwoman AU.





	Masks

**Author's Note:**

> So I was watching clips on YouTube, and came across the scene from 'Batman Returns' where Selina and Bruce realise who the other is. It's an *amazing* scene, and I immediately thought of a Jaime/Brienne AU. This fic is my take on that scene, with some dialogue coming from 'Batman Returns'. I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Also, take note of the tags: this is a dark story.

Jaime was going to kill Aerys Targaryen tonight.

The former heir to Lannister Holdings would not be a suspect in the murder. Aerys had many enemies in the city; no doubt the King's Landing City Guard would chalk his death up to one of them. The Baratheons, the Starks: after what Aerys had done to Judge Stark (though no charges had ever been brought), good old Ned would be a better candidate. _No, _Jaime Lannister was a loyal employee. No one would think it to be him. Like no one would think he would be the Knight_, _King's Landing's newest masked man.

It felt _good, _being the Knight. Better than being Jaime Lannister. Sitting in his office, he couldn't do a damn thing. Couldn't stop Aerys from growing ever more paranoid. Couldn't stop the money exchanging hands to make people just _disappear. _Couldn't stop the things he'd heard, and seen, with the young women who had joined King's Landing's most prominent business. But as the Knight he could wreck the bulldozers sent to destroy people's homes. He could stalk and hit and _hurt _the men who crept in the shadows. As Jaime Lannister, he was shackled by the contract he had signed. As the Knight, he was above the law.

There was only one damn thing he enjoyed about being Jaime Lannister. _Her. _

As he descended the staircase into the Mayor's masquerade party, Jaime couldn't take his eyes off of her. Brienne Tarth was taller than most of the men in the room. Her blonde hair, usually pinned back in a bun, brushed her long neck and shoulders. She'd opted for a blue dress, with a long slit to mid-thigh, showing off _insanely _long legs. When she'd first stepped into his office, a lawyer working for the Crown Prosecution Service, he'd been transfixed. They'd verbally sparred until Jaime had asked her for a drink. She'd said no; something about not caring to be _mocked _by the likes of him.

Later, whilst still smarting from being knocked into a wall by the Maiden – the masked vigilante who assisted the KLCG – she'd texted and agreed to _one _drink.

Drinks had become dinner had become arguing at a museum past closing because they disagreed on the value of southern forces during the Battle of the Long Night. Three months later, that arguing had become kissing and now Jaime couldn't get through the day without talking to her. Brienne had mentioned last week about attending the Mayor's festive celebrations at the Red Keep, and here she was. Such a pity Jaime wasn't here to dance and drink and smile and celebrate. Such a pity he wasn't here for her. 

_But the way she looked_…Jaime was ninety-nine percent certain that if he decided not to kill Aerys tonight, he'd take Brienne home and bed her. They'd been dancing around each other for weeks, now; the tension between them was near breaking. He circled her as he approached, teeth bared like a lion. "Blue suits you."

"Thank you." Brienne pulled on her bottom lip with her teeth; the rigid line of her shoulders betraying her unease. He'd seen her in the courtroom: she was _phenomenal_. This room, these people: this was not her stage.

"Aren't you going to tell me I'm pretty, too?"

She grinned. "Does your ego need _that _much of a boost?"

Jaime slipped a hand around her waist, drawing her to him. "It does when I get stood up for dinner."

"I am sorry about yesterday. Something…_came up. _At work. I tried to call—"

She probably did, but Jaime wouldn't have known. His phone had been damaged in another altercation with the Maiden: he'd been sabotaging some of Aerys' illegal efforts at the Blackwater docks, and that bloody do-gooder in the sapphire cape had tried to arrest him. _Again. _There had been some back and forth; whilst he and Brienne sparred verbally, the Knight and the Maiden took aim with jabs and thrusts. They'd shared a moment, though. Him on top, pinning her down. A whispered exchange about the season that had ended with her knee in his groin.

If Jaime didn't get to spend the evening with Brienne, at least the Knight got to spend it with the Maiden Fair. "It's fine; I had some family drama to deal with anyway."

Somehow they found themselves on the dance floor; Brienne's hand brushing the nape of his neck as he led her along to the music. For a moment, it was just the two of them. "So, no hard feelings, then?" 

"Actually," Jaime began, pulling Brienne flush against him. She gasped. Did she have any idea what she looked like in that dress? How much he thought about those legs wrapped around him; drowning in those blue eyes? He leant forward and left a kiss behind her ear. "Semi-hard, I'd say."

"_Jaime._"

He left another kiss to the curve of her neck. Her sapphire earrings brushed the side of his face, and he pulled back to just _look _and _admire. _In this room were some of the wealthiest and most corrupt people in all of Westeros. The suits and jewels they wore cost more than a public servant like Brienne would make in a year. She was _good _and _innocent _and Jaime kept her close as if to shield her from the darkness he felt lingering in the room. In another life, he would have taken his father's job offer and would be in a different kind of hell. But at least he'd feel whole.

"There's a library upstairs. Excellent liquor cabinet, _very _comfy chaises. Entirely secluded," Jaime whispered in Brienne's ear; her fingers tightening along his shoulder blades. Just for a moment he wanted to be whole, and _hers. _"Why don't we—"

"—take off our armour?"

How easy it would be. Jaime would take her hand; they'd settle in some quiet place. He'd find the seam of her dress and tug the zipper down with his teeth. Jaime would lose himself in her like when he donned his armour – real armour, rather than the Lannister name. He would be _her _knight rather than _the _Knight. _Gods, he wore too many faces_. Tywin Lannister's disgraced heir; Aerys' right hand. Businessman, boyfriend… Jaime buried his face in the crook of Brienne's neck as he tried to calm his racing mind.

For a second, he let the act slip. "I'm tired of wearing masks, Brienne."

Her fingers carded through his hair, finding a spot that made him keen. "Me too."

Jaime stilled under her touch. Slowly he dragged himself away from her; fixing her with an unyielding stare. Brienne's fingers tightened in his. "What would you know about wearing masks, hmm? What would _you _know about that?"

Brienne Tarth was the perfect public servant: working under Catelyn Tully-Stark, she was already a rising star within the CPS. Good friend, devoted daughter. Everything about her was _plain_ and _obvious. _And he told her so. He wanted her to get angry. To push him away, to _run_ away from the darkness he felt festering inside. But she didn't. She looked at him with _pity _and Jaime knew the next words out of her mouth would be a lifeline he was too far out to sea to reach.

"If you really feel that way, Jaime, answer me this: why did you come here tonight?"

He laughed; the sound metallic and biting. "Do you expect me to say _you_?"

Brienne flinched. She was soft, and good, and like the lion he was, Jaime would tear into her underbelly with his teeth and leave her to bleed. She inched away, but his grip around her waist tightened. He touched her face; feeling the warmth of her skin underneath his fingertips. He felt so cold. "I really wish I was here for you."

She looked so resigned; as if she had been expecting this moment. His betrayal; his rejection. "But you're not," Brienne said flatly. 

He wanted to ease the pain in her face, and knew only one way to do so. He dropped the mask; removed his armour. _This is the real me, Brienne. This is the man I've become._

"I'm here for Aerys." He took the hand that lingered on his shoulder and slipped it inside his suit jacket. Jaime waited for her to feel the prick of the knife. Valyrian Steel: forged by dragon flame; Jaime hoped it would kill a dragon, too. Those blue eyes widened. "_I'm here to kill him._"

Brienne was quite the lawyer: if the cold hard facts about life in a Westerosi prison didn't dissuade him, the appeal to his sense of _honour _just might. But it was far too late for that. He cut her off before she could make her opening argument. "_Don't_, Brienne. We both know what kind of man he is. The things he's accused of that never go to trial. The evidence, the witnesses that fall through the cracks. You visited that crime scene last month; the Greyjoy lad. We both know what burning flesh smells like, so _please _don't rattle me off some spiel about _honour_ and _justice_. This will do a damn sight more to protect the innocent than what the City Guard, or that ridiculous caped crusader the Maiden, could do."

"This isn't ancient Westeros, Jaime," Brienne hissed, abandoning the knife hidden in his suit to touch his cheek. "This isn't a pledge to the Mother you have to honour. You're not a knight of old."

He laughed; the irony not lost on him. "I don't know what I am anymore, Brienne." 

She must have seen something in his eyes. Something to cling on to; something to help drag him out of the darkness. The Maiden might be King's Landing's light, but Brienne was his. Her thumb traced the line of his jaw, tilting his head up so she could brush her mouth to his. She tasted of champagne and salt; her lips warm and chapped. This winter was long, and cruel, and the only warmth Jaime had found was in the woman he held in his arms. _He should take Brienne to bed. Forget it all; be with her. _She wasn't afraid of him. She was still kissing him; her lips taking a path along the side of his neck. Jaime stared upwards; a familiar festive plant pinned above their heads.

He sighed. There was a knife in his jacket, soot and smoke clinging to his nostrils, and he was sharing a kiss with a singular woman underneath the traditional white berries. _The world was a strange place. _"A kiss under the mistletoe. You know, mistletoe can be deadly if you eat it." 

Brienne smiled against his ear. "But a kiss can be even deadlier…" She trailed off; brow furrowed in confusion as she pulled away. "…if you mean it."

Those words. Those blue eyes. Jaime stared at Brienne, and the world fell out from underneath him.

He'd said those words, but not to Brienne. Straddling the Maiden's hips, staring into strangely familiar eyes, he'd said those exact words. Jaime had taken her bottom lip between his teeth and _tugged, _watching as the Maiden struggled to maintain her composure. The tension had been building between them for months: every new bout was an opportunity for him to _tease _and _taunt. _But it had meant nothing, not really. The Maiden was a nuisance; a paradigm of virtue and honour that hid behind a cape and a mask. _We want the same things, _he had longed to say on more than one occasion. But she hated him; judged him as a villain without even knowing who he was. She still believed in the words of the old knights, adopting her moniker's practice to protect the innocent. But he was the Knight, the Warrior, and bravery was all he had.

All this time, it was _her_ underneath the mask. The one thing that was Jaime's, the one thing that wasn't ruined by all this _darkness. _She was in it with him, but on the opposite side. 

"No. _No. _This isn't_—_" But Jaime could see it now; kicked himself for not seeing it before. Gentle hands cupped his face, before they clung to his shoulders. Brienne's face pressed to his; the wetness of her tears damp on his skin. _Fuck. _"Are you going to fight me, Brienne?"

Jaime felt the minutest of movements against him. Then she spoke. "Let's get some air."

To anyone else in the room, they looked like an amorous couple taking advantage of the festive season and the open bar. No one would expect the Knight and the Maiden to walk out arm-in-arm. Although he was with the woman he cared for – could even _love _if the world wasn't burning around them – Jaime felt like he was walking to the hangman's noose. Maybe he was wrong; maybe they could work together. But he doubted it. Jaime Lannister might be the only person in Westeros that the Maiden couldn't save. 


End file.
